


It isn't the love of a hero

by thp_cara (TheHolosexualPan)



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Based on Hardcore Hermits Season 1, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Not Again, Oh god, POV zit, Sleepy Cuddles, Slight Canon Divergence, Zouchies, and he wants his boyfriend to be safe and happy, damn it, fear of darkness, hes still babey, ill stop hurting zed the day he stops being so angstable, impulse is not here but he support the sleepy cuddles, tango is soft, zed is babey but he tries to be tough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25857151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHolosexualPan/pseuds/thp_cara
Summary: Impulse already is in the Nether and Tango is preparing what he and Zedaph would need in order to go enderman hunting, but their plans must be put on hold.
Relationships: Implied Zedaph/Impulse/Tango, Tango Tek/Zedaph (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 61





	It isn't the love of a hero

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, yes, I'm still alive.., but I'm also binging hardcore hermits, so.  
> Slight zedangst with a hearty side of fluffy zedango, anyone? :>  
> Also, technically, this is alternative shenanigans where, after exploring the mine, while Impulse is in the Nether, Tango and Zed do the cuddles instead of the enderman/diamond hoe tomfoolery

Tango sits on one of the chests next to the furnaces adorning the wall next to the door, his back to the heated stone and his feet propped up against the wall, red eyes half lidded and dust from their underground explorations still scattered all over his golden hair. There’s something bored in the expression on his face, as though he were waiting for something, and he is,  _ someone  _ to be more precise, but deeper down, there’s the impatience, the concern of one of his lovers still missing. He’d managed to catch Impulse just before he headed for the Nether and, though a short kiss and a tight embrace definitely hadn’t been enough together-time for Tango, it is still better than nothing, because right now, he is waiting on Zedaph to turn up, has his hand in his pocket, fingers resting on the metal surface of the communicator, is telling himself that he’ll only wait one more minute before he goes enderman hunting by himself, that he’ll just message Zedaph, even if Zedaph hadn’t responded to any of either his or Impulse’s messages since venturing into the mine.

A part of Tango is dead set on getting the ender pearls they need, because their time is slowly dwindling, but everything else is telling Tango to wait just  _ one more minute _ , which, to be fair, is exactly what he is doing, and it’s not like them losing this game will mean much, like them temporarily losing a member of their team and having him spectate will mean much, not when they will all reunite in a few more short days, but Tango is still not too keen on letting anything happen to any of his lovers.

With a long sigh, Tango closes his eyes and, upon opening them, he pushes himself off of the chest and looks out the window. The sun had set quite a while ago, but the red hue around the horizon, dark and nearly purple around the edges, hints at it still being early evening out there. The chill in the air is still bearable, even armoured in cold iron as Tango is, but he knows that the endermen will already be pretty hard to find as it, if he limits his time even further, it will only be to their detriment, and so Tango looks at their little house, at the empty beds pushed together in one of the corners and at the items scattered about. Potatoes and empty glass bottles strewn around the floor make Tango smile crookedly before he shakes his head and turns his back to the cozy room, facing the door instead.

However, just as Tango is about to reach for the door handle and venture out into the night, he hears the distinct sound of heavy footsteps.

The clank of armour is one he knows all too well and the lack of groaning or clattering of bones hints at who exactly is making their way up the stairs mined hastily beneath their house. Tango holds his breath, the possibility of it just being another mob who’d managed to find some old pieces of armour one that he ignores as he grabs one of the torches set onto the floor and quickly makes his way towards the entrance of the tunnel. He holds the torch out in front of him, but the tunnel is still a bit too dark to make out the person that lurks just outside the torch’s range. Tango narrows his eyes and fishes the communicator out of his pocket, sending a message that is a random keysmash more than it is a meaningful text, but his relief is immense when, out of the depths of the shadows that aren’t lit up nearly well enough, he hears the sound of another communicator going off. 

“God, Zed, you got me all worried and stuff!”, Tango calls out as he hears the footsteps grow louder the closer Zedaph is and, soon enough, with tuffs of light blonde hair peeking out from under a scratched up metal helmet, Zedaph stumbles back into the room. Tango smiles at him, but his face slowly falls as he recognises just how…  _ Not _ ok he seems.

Zedaph doesn’t say anything, in fact, he  _ smiles _ at Tango, his face covered in grime and dirt, his hands holding onto his pack which, with how full it looks, must hold quite a few resources, but Zedaph’s fingers are shaking and, as he makes his way past Tango, the straps on his armour snapped in places and barely keeping the pieces together, Tango notices the various tears in his cardigan where it peeks through the gaps in the chestplate and the way he moves, slowly, carefully.

Tango frowns and opens his mouth to say something, but Zedaph opens a chest loudly and the lid hits the other side of the wall with a muted  _ thump _ .

“Didn’t find any pumpkins, sadly”, Zedaph says and his voice is soft, almost too soft, and Tango doesn’t like it one bit. His frown deepens and he tries to get closer to Zedaph, but Zedaph turns to look at him and something in his eyes tells Tango to stay away, which he does, even if he would rather check on Zedaph because  _ something _ isn’t right.

“Well, that’s… It’s fine, Zed”, Tango tilts his head to the side a bit, but he bites his lip when Zedaph’s tired smile doesn’t change. Zedaph just shakes his head and starts emptying his pack into the chest, but Tango is left at a loss with what to do. He can tell that something must have happened down in the mine, and Tango eyes up the various cuts and bruises that he can now see better given the proximity, but Zedaph doesn’t seem to want to talk about it. 

Tango stares at the back of Zedaph’s chest plate when, just as suddenly as he’d opened it, he closes the chest and turns his attention to Tango. He looks almost exhausted, but his purple eyes are wide open and his lips form a tense line, now. He has a sword in his right hand and Tango technically  _ knows _ what they are supposed to do, what the sword is for, but he just shakes his head and keeps looking into Zedaph’s eyes. He is about to say something, is already on the move again, trying to approach Zedaph, a hand in the air, the gesture questioning, but then both of their communicators start vibrating.

“Zed-”, Tango tries, byt Zedaph shushes him with a raised finger as he checks the communicator. He seems to want to read it out, whatever it is Impulse had written, but then he sighs and just shows Tango the screen of his communicator.

_ ImpulseSV: It’ll take a bit longer, but progress is being made! Is Zed back yet? _

And Zedaph types out a quick affirmative while Tango is left wondering what to do next, because he cannot stand the silence on Zedaph’s part, not when he is usually always chattering about one thing or another, even when no one is listening. It is out of worry that, while Zedaph is focused on typing, Tango grabs his sword and the sound of the iron clattering to the floor startles Zedaph, who, were it not for how Tango grabs hold of both of his wrists, almost drops the little device as well. 

Tango takes a step closer and, just like that, he is cornering Zedaph into the chests next to the furnaces, but when their eyes meet, the worry in his gaze is obvious enough that, for just a second, Zedaph seems to sag and lean even more into the chest. His fingers twitch and Tango loosens his hold, but he doesn’t let go and, instead, keeps looking into Zedaph’s eyes, as if they may reveal something that Zedaph will not.

“Zed, did something happen down there?”, Tango asks, his voice a whisper combined with something more, but Zedaph only gasps and turns his head away, biting his lip. It almost looks like he wants to say something, but is holding himself back. 

“Zed?”, Tango tries again, but then Zedaph closes his eyes and his whole face twists into something akin to pain. Tango drops Zedaph’s hands as if he had been burnt and takes a step back, nearly stumbling over his own legs, but then Zedaph throws him one short glance and, though his lips attempt to form a response, no sound comes out. Zedaph shakes his head again, his arms wrapping around his own shoulders.

“If you don’t want to talk about it...”, Tango tries, instead, but another firm shake of Zedaph’s head and a few more moments of silence as Zedaph tries and, ultimately,  _ fails _ to give the reply he wants to, stops him. Tango waits where he stands, not daring to come any closer in case… He isn’t sure, not really, but closeness doesn’t seem to be what Zedaph needs right now, as he takes a series of deep breaths, his eyes fixed on the floor between them. Eventually, Zedaph says a simple sentence that leaves Tango more confused than before and makes to pick the sword up from the wooden floor.

“Let’s go.”

Tango doesn’t touch Zedaph again, maybe out of fear of spooking him, because that is the realisation Tango reaches, that Zedaph seems almost  _ afraid _ , his eyes wide, his shoulders drawn up and his voice soft enough that Tango has to strain his ears to hear him, but what he ends up doing is blocking the door with his own body, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that Tango tries to make look more intimidating than he himself is, but Tango is also aware that both concern and confusion are written on his face all too clearly.

It is Zedaph’s turn to frown and he makes it quite obvious that he isn’t happy with the course of action Tango has chosen right now, because his face darkens a bit and he pouts in a way that only accentuates both how any sort of anger doesn’t seem to fit in with Zedaph’s features and with the way he usually looks at the world, with both awe and mischief in his eyes, and how tired he  _ still _ looks. But Tango doesn’t move and, instead, he raises an eyebrow. There’s an unspoken question between them and Tango only softens his stance when Zedaph sighs and turns around to put his sword into the chest while also fumbling with undoing some of the clasps of his armour. He starts with his helmet and, though his hair is adorably ruffled and a bit sweaty, it isn’t what Tango focuses on. With how his face had been partially hidden, Tango hadn’t been able to see just how many small cuts decorated Zedaph’s face, along with what looks like a minor burn on one of his cheek, and it’s not something too worrisome, a wet cloth and a bit of time will fix Zedaph right up, if not a swig from a health potion, but Tango can only wonder if these are the  _ only _ injuries he hadn’t noticed before.

Thankfully, as the iron plates hit the floor, only to be deposited in a chest, nothing all too bad is uncovered, but that doesn’t necessarily make Tango worry any less.

He does sigh when Zedaph finishes removing his armour and looks at Tango with a face caught just between his earlier fear and something  _ guilty _ . Well, that doesn’t make this whole situation any easier to understand. 

“Did something happen in the mineshaft?”, Tango asks and it seems like his question hits the mark, because Zedaph winces and looks off to the side, twiddling his thumbs almost nervously. The silence is starting to unnerve Tango and Tango knows words don’t always come easy, everyone has their moments when they’d rather stay silent for a bit, but he just wants to know that Zedaph is ok. He does come closer to Zedaph then, slowly, his arms open, but his pose as unthreatening as possible and, though Zedaph’s eyes widen just a bit further, he doesn’t react negatively and, once Tango is close enough to wrap his arms around him, Zedaph  _ melts _ in the embrace. Tango feels like a weight is lifted off of his heart when he can just squeeze his boyfriend in his arms, a sigh of relief the only thing to fill the silence as they stay there in the following minutes.

Tango isn’t entirely satisfied with just holding Zedaph, would prefer it if Zedaph would tell him what had gone wrong, but, for now, this is enough. 

Finally, Zedaph lets his forehead meet Tango’s shoulder as his own arms wrap around Tango’s waist, Zedaph’s hold more relaxed than Tango’s own, but the movement still makes Tango relax a little bit further. Zedaph chooses that moment to speak and it almost startles Tango, but in the end, he only tightens his embrace as he listens to Zedaph.

“Got lost… At one point”, Zedaph begins and Tango almost wants to ask him why he hadn’t just texted them for the coordinates so that, if worse came to worst, he might have been able to just dig up, but then Zedaph takes a shaky breath and his next words are even quieter, despite the already whisper-like quality of his voice, “Ran out of torches. I...”

And that is all Tango needs to know. He knows Zedaph well enough to be aware of the fact that, for him, being separated from everyone else, being alone in the darkness, is a nightmare brought to life. And despite that outcome being a realistic possibility when venturing out into a mineshaft, Zedaph had still gone through with it, like the endearingly brave fool Tango knows and loves all the same. He turns his head just as Zedaph raises his and their foreheads meet in a gentle touch, Zedaph’s eyes fluttering shut and, from this distance, not only can Tango count the faded freckles on the bridge of his nose, but he can also observe the dried trails of what must have been tears. 

Tango isn’t sure what to say, so instead, he just sighs and cups Zedaph’s face between both hands, squishing his cheeks a little and watching as Zedaph melts into the hold even further, the slightest hint of a smile stretching across his lips.

“I’m… Better now, Tango”, Zedaph whispers, but Tango can hear the unsaid  _ I’d rather not go back out in the darkness again, though _ and he knows all too well how hard it is for Zedaph to make his wishes clear, how hard it is for him to say no in front of his lovers, despite being comfortable with them, despite the conversations and the growth they’ve all gone through together, so Tango decides to make it clear that couldn’t give less of a crap about tonight’s supposed enderman hunt. Tango leans down and kisses Zedaph’s nose with the most serious face he can muster which, understandably, leaves Zedaph confused, if a bit flushed. He blinks and Tango keeps sternly looking at him.

“Well, that will be a night of cuddles for you, mister”, Tango says firmly and Zedaph keeps looking at him, a protest on the tip of his tongue, judging from how his eyebrows are furrowed and Tango is sure Zedaph will just tell him that he needs a moment and that, afterwards, Zedaph will be ready to equip all of his armour again, despite still feeling a bit shaken, but Tango means what he says, so he swiftly interrupts his boyfriend, “Nope, no arguments. Doctor’s orders.”

And Zedaph puffs out his cheeks, but Tango smiles down at him sweetly and it’s that which convinces Zedaph to purse his lips against a small smile of his own.

* * *

It doesn’t take Tango a long time to take his own armour off and to carefully deposit it in a chest and it takes him even less time to get a small wooden bowl of lukewarm water and a small piece of cloth and clean all of the small wounds Zedaph will allow him access to, but in the end, sooner rather than later, after Zedaph tries to take the washcloth away from Tango for the hundredth time that night, Tango clicks his tongue and decides that it is time for bed for Zedaph, because he can see that, despite the jolliness he puts on, his yawns get harder to control and Tango is fully aware that what Zedaph needs right now is a break and a bit of tenderness. 

With a sharp smirk, Tango grabs Zedaph from where he had been seated on the windowsill off to the side and, entirely dismissing the squeak he lets out, Tango just carries him off to bed, because he’d made sure to eliminate at least one of Zedaph’s complaints that he might use as an excuse by having them both change into their sleeping clothes as soon as Tango had finished treating the small scratches on Zedaph’s face and torso, having left his hands for last.

Zedaph gives up struggling and in a move that almost makes Tango’s heart jump out of his chest with affection, he just cuddles into Tango’s arms, which is almost too sweet to handle, no,  _ really _ , he almost Zedaph then, but Tango pushes through with the willpower of a chicken following a trail of seeds.

Both of them stumble into the three beds pushed together for all of them and Tango cannot deny that, as soon as he has Zedaph on the bed, blinking away his dazed expression, Tango just holds himself up above his boyfriend, just so he can look at him for a second, so he can admire Zedaph, and admire he does. The pretty purple eyes, the pink, now clean cheeks, the parted lips all hold Tango’s attention,  _ especially  _ the latter. 

But it doesn’t last because Zedaph begins giggling shortly. It’s quieter than his normal laughter and his eyes still look as though they are on the verge of closing however, so Tango pecks a kiss on his forehead and rolls them over so that they end up in a similar position to the one from earlier, face to face, both of their arms wrapped around each other and Tango feels the way his heart speeds up and feels the way a blush slowly forms on his own cheeks as Zedaph nestles himself in Tango’s arms, burying his face into Tango’s chest and pulling his legs up to his own torso, basically curling himself into a little ball of Zedaph.

“How’s this for some medicine?”, Tango asks quietly, or well, as quietly as he can, because his voice still sounds a bit too loud for the quiet room, a bit too rough,but his gaze is softening as Zedaph lets out a small sound, one of his hands moving up the bed so that it rests on Tango’s cheek, his thumb caressing the skin under Tango’s eye gently.

“It’s… Thank you”, Zedaph murmurs, some of his usual giddiness, though veiled by sleepiness, returning to his voice. Distantly, Tango wishes Impulse were here too, not only because Zedaph always sleeps better between the two of them, but because he also misses him, misses holding both of his boyfriends close to him. Hopefully, it won’t be long until Impulse returns from his journey to the Nether, but until then, Tango simply makes himself comfortable and kisses Zedaph’s forehead again, lingering there and breathing in the scent of too many hours spent under the sun, farming, of dust and old wood and of something that smells unmistakably  _ Zedaph _ .

Zedaph himself inhales deeply and, as the moments pass, as Tango pulls a blanket over both of them, Zedaph’s breathing evens out and soon enough, he is fast asleep in Tango’s arms.

Competitions and almost all other worries forgotten, Tango allows himself to drift off too, enjoying the warmth and the comfort of holding one of his boyfriends.

* * *

If later on during the night, as Tango feels another pair of arms wrap around his waist and as he and Zedaph both are pulled into a warm embrace, a relaxed sigh behind him hitting the back of Tango’s neck in the from of a warm exhale, he smiles in his slumber, then maybe he is just having a particularly pleasant dream where he snuggles closer to Impulse and where Zedaph throws his arm over both of them, his hand being gently grabbed by a newly-arrived Impulse and kissed with the sort of tenderness that only sleep can lend all three of them.

**Author's Note:**

> I won't stop tagging things as zouchies (or writing the zouchies) until it becomes a certified tag.


End file.
